by Bill Kitson
‘The horses are all in their boxes, and by the look of them, the boxes have been cleaned out and the horses groomed, but that doesn’t mean anything. The stable lads would do that as a matter of routine without having to be told what to do, whether Barbara was there to supervise them or not.’
Eve looked at me appealingly. ‘What do you think we should do, Adam? I’m really worried.’
So was I, but I dare not give voice to each one of my fears. Added to the other concerns was the thought that Barbara might be with the police. Although I kept trying to dismiss it, the phrase ‘helping with their enquiries’ kept returning to mind. ‘If I knew where one of the stable lads lives, I’d go ask them, but I think our best bet would be to go to Dene Cottage. Once we’re there I’ll phone John Pickersgill. He might have some news.’
‘That’s your policeman friend, isn’t it? What sort of news do you think he might…?’ Evestoppedspeaking as the implication of what I’d said struck her. ‘You don’t think they’ve arrested Barbara? Surely nobody would believe she was capable of murder?’
‘You haven’t met Inspector Ogden. You and I might not suspect her, but with him it’s more than a distinct possibility.’
There was no need for me to ring Pickersgill. As we approached Dene Cottage I could see his patrol car parked close to the end of the drive. John emerged from under the canopy of the open porch as I pulled in.
‘Good afternoon, Adam,’ he greeted me, before turning to smile at Eve. ‘And you must be Miss Samuels. Pleased to meet you; I understand congratulations are in order.’ Having disposed of the pleasantries, he looked at each of us in turn. ‘Now, would one of you mind telling me where we can find Mrs Lewis?’
I saw Eve flinch at his question. One theory as to Barbara’s whereabouts was discounted, but that was by no means good news. ‘Actually, I was going to phone you as soon as we got in the house to ask if she was with you, or Inspector Ogden. I had the idea he might have pulled her in for questioning about her husband’s murder, detained her even. We’ve both been trying to contact her, but without success. We even stopped by the house on the way here, and there was no sign of life. The house was locked and the horses had been seen to, but there was no one around.’
‘That’s down to the stable lads. I saw them at work first thing this morning. They’ve no idea where Mrs Lewis is either. We found the same as you. Everything in order, but the house all locked up. Of course, Inspector Ogden finds the fact that Mrs Lewis has gone missing extremely suspicious. He’s put an alert out for anyone who might have seen her, which is why I was sent to ask you.’
Pickersgill glanced towards the house. ‘It’s been very hectic this morning. Perhaps we could go inside and I’ll allow you to make me a cup of tea, whilst I tell you about the other developments. One of which is that you’re not in Ogden’s good books, Adam.’
‘That’s hardly going to keep me awake at night. Come on, then, we’ll put the kettle on and you can tell me what I’ve done to upset the inspector.’
We settled in the lounge with our drinks, and John looked at me sternly. ‘It seems you were less than forthcoming in the statement you gave to Ogden. He thinks that’s highly suspicious. He even suggested you and Mrs Lewis might have something to hide. I told you he’d jump to that conclusion, didn’t I?’ He grinned at Eve. ‘But then, he doesn’t know about Miss Samuels.’
‘What do you mean by “less than forthcoming”? I answered every question Ogden asked.’
‘You failed to mention what happened at Linden House last Sunday.’
‘That’s because he never asked me about it. All he asked me about was the body; who found it and how come I was able to identify it. I take it one of the other witnesses of the events of Sunday afternoon has come forward.’
‘Both of them have, actually. Matthews and Armstrong both visited the police station late yesterday afternoon of their own accord to volunteer information. They told us everything that happened.’
I failed to respond, so after a moment Pickersgill asked, ‘What can you tell us about the tramp who threatened Lewis?’
I left it to Eve to answer him. As she related what she knew, she glanced at me a couple of times for confirmation, but my mind was elsewhere. I knew Eve wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss, but I was slightly surprised that Pickersgill had failed to grasp the significance of what he’d said.
Pickersgill finished making notes and then looked at me. ‘Over the past few months I’ve received several reports of this wild man of the woods, but until now nobody has actually confirmed that they’ve not only seen him, but spoken to him as well. You may not place much significance on his assault on Lewis, but I have to tell you that following our conversation, I drove around looking for Lewis’s Mercedes. I found it, several miles upstream from here, close to where Rowandale Forest comes down to the banks of Thorsgill Beck. The car was unlocked, with the keys in the ignition. Nearby I could see the marks of two sets of feet in the mud. One was made by those fancy Italian shoes Lewis was wearing. The others looked like walking boot prints. Close to the riverbank I also found what looks like blood on rocks close to the water’s edge. The place where the car was abandoned is very near where the wild man has been spotted on at least three occasions.’
Pickersgill paused before continuing. ‘I think you can understand that we’re very keen to interview him; and Mrs Lewis too. We want to know what their relationship is.’ He saw Eve was about to protest and held up a warning hand. ‘Please don’t say there is no relationship, because that obviously isn’t the case, otherwise why did he spring to her defence when he thought Lewis was threatening her? And, I might add, he did so with a knife that according to the description I read bears a striking resemblance to the one used to stab Lewis. The need to speak to them is being treated as extremely urgent, so much so that Inspector Ogden has said that if we don’t speak to either or both of them by daylight tomorrow, he’s going to order officers to conduct a search of Rowandale Forest.’
I stared at Pickersgill in surprise, biting my lip to avoid laughing out loud. He must have sensed my amusement, because he held up one hand. ‘Yes, Adam, I know it’s a daft idea. You could send a couple of regiments of soldiers into the forest and they wouldn’t find anyone who was determined to avoid detection, let alone doing it with a couple of dozen policemen. You may know that, and I may know it, but try telling Inspector Ogden.’
After Pickersgill left, Eve confronted me. ‘What happened there? I was beginning to think you’d gone into a trance. Why did you switch off suddenly and leave me to do all the explaining to Pickersgill?’
‘I was concentrating on something he said. He told us that Armstrong and Matthews had gone to see Ogden yesterday afternoon to tell him what they’d witnessed last Sunday.’
‘Yes, I heard that clear enough, but why did you think it was important?’
‘They could only have done that if they knew that Lewis was dead.’
‘I still don’t see the relevance.’
‘I was trying to work out how they found out that Lewis was the murder victim. Or, how they found out that he was dead, let alone murdered.’
‘Sorry, Adam, I still don’t get it.’
‘I switched the radio and TV on when I came home, and listened to virtually every news bulletin. There was no mention of the body found in Thorsgill Beck until late evening; no indication if the body was that of a man, a woman, or a child, and no reference to how they died, let alone the victim’s identity.’
‘Right; I’m with you now. If they didn’t hear about it via the media, how did they know to visit Ogden and tell him what they’d seen?’
‘Exactly, and that means they either have a contact within the police force, or someone else told them. In which case I’d be interested to learn who that was. Because if neither heard anything via a leak, that means they either witnessed the murder, or they killed Lewis themselves, or they know who did. I’m not sure which of those options I prefer.’
My f
inal sentences met with no response. I glanced at Eve, and could tell by her abstract expression that her thoughts were elsewhere. I waited, and after a moment, she looked up. ‘You know what, Adam? Maybe the tramp wasn’t as weird as we thought.’
‘In what way?’
‘That night; when we thought he was rambling with concussion, and he mentioned that rhyme. We were under the impression that he was talking nonsense because of the blow to the head, but perhaps the injury had nothing to do with it. He told us he’d seen the blood-covered children, remember? Then he said he’d gone to Linden House to warn someone. We dismissed it at the time, but perhaps he did go to warn Barbara that someone she knew was going to be killed. Let’s be fair, his description of the children, and from your account of the state Lewis’s body was in, well that must have made a bit of a mess, sounds pretty much identical to me.’
I felt a sudden frisson of fear. Fear of the unknown; of what we cannot readily explain. I’m no great believer in second sight, or the supernatural in any form, but I was unable to shake off the feeling that the prophecy from beyond the grave had turned out to be uncannily accurate.
Chapter Eight
Neither of us slept well, concern over Barbara’s disappearance putting paid to our chances of a good night’s rest. By mutual consent we were up, dressed, and on the road to Rowandale before first light. The fact that the consent was unspoken said a lot for how quickly our relationship was developing. However, any hope that our dawn raid might yield positive results, was soon dashed.
We questioned the stable lads, who told us they had neither seen nor heard from their employer since the day before Lewis’s body had been found. I could see by the way they avoided eye contact with us that the men were placing the worst possible construction on Barbara’s absence. If her own employees believed her to be responsible for her husband’s murder, I thought, what must someone like Inspector Ogden, who didn’t know her, be thinking?
‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen a tramp hanging around, have you?’ Eve asked.
I knew she was concerned for Barbara’s safety more than any though that she might be guilty of murder. The lads shook their heads in reply.
As I was watching one of them bring a sleek, muscular thoroughbred from its box, I wondered if Barbara’s disappearance might have other, thus far unforeseen consequences. ‘Are any of these horses entered in races in the near future?’
The senior of the stable lads answered, ‘Mrs Lewis doesn’t have another runner for another ten days or so.’
‘That’s fortunate; there must be penalties for not running a horse without going through the proper withdrawal procedure, I suppose.’
‘There most certainly are. Apart from the fines that would accrue, the trainer would have to appear before the stewards to provide an explanation.’
We waited until they had exercised the horses and completed the grooming, feeding, and mucking-out procedures before returning to Laithbrigg. I left my phone number with the senior lad, with instructions for him to phone me if he saw or heard from Barbara.
We ate a leisurely breakfast, and although we talked over the situation at some length, neither of us could come up with an idea as to how to solve the problem, or indeed explain it.
‘It makes everything so much more difficult not having spoken to Barbara since the murder,’ Eve said. ‘If we’d been able to; at least we might have some clue as to her intentions, or at the very least, her state of mind.’
‘I hardly think we need worry on that score. The way things were between them, I reckon Lewis’s death would be more a cause for celebration than mourning.’
The unsatisfactory state of affairs and our inability to do anything was frustrating, and we were at somewhat of a loose end. Matters changed, early that afternoon, however, although I would normally not class a visit from Inspector Ogden as light relief.
Eve had declared her intention to go for a long soak in the bath. Normally, this would have provoked a racy or suggestive comment from me, something on the lines of volunteering to wash her back, for example, but somehow, the mood didn’t seem right.
After she went upstairs I went through into the study and picked up the Saturday evening paper, as yet unread. Although it mentioned the murder, there were few details; certainly none that I didn’t already know. I switched my attention to other news, and had all but finished reading when I heard a knock at the door. The paper had held my attention for long enough. Several minutes earlier I had heard the sound of bathwater flowing down the outlet pipe.
As I walked down the hall I heard Eve moving around upstairs. I wondered who the visitor was. I didn’t get many. I opened the door, and was surprised to see Ogden standing there, accompanied by the juvenile detective constable. I was about to greet them when Ogden pushed past me into the house.
‘Where is she?’ he demanded; his tone curt.
‘First of all, good afternoon, Inspector.’ I paused, before continuing. ‘Now it’s your turn. You have to say, good afternoon, Mr Bailey. Then I ask you if you’d like to come in, and follow that up by enquiring as to the reason for your visit. It’s called having a conversation.’
‘Never mind that rubbish.’ His tone and the gesture that accompanied it were dismissive. ‘Where’s Barbara Lewis? I believe you are hiding her and I need to speak to her as a matter of urgency.’
‘Of course you do, Inspector. Why didn’t you say so earlier?’ I pointed to the oak dresser. ‘She’s in there. Third drawer. I hid her under the cutlery.’
‘Don’t play games with me.’ Ogden’s face was red with anger. ‘Do you think I’m stupid?’
It was too good an opportunity to miss. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I do.’
For one moment, I thought I’d pushed him too far. He looked to be on the verge of apoplexy, or a heart attack. His face was the colour of an over-ripe beetroot. When he spoke, it was in a shout that would have been heard by the neighbours, but for Dene Cottage’s isolated position. ‘I have to tell you that I also believe you are conducting an extra-marital affair with Mrs Lewis, and that when her husband confronted the pair of you about it, one or both of you murdered him.’
‘I think that should be ex-husband, Inspector,’ I pointed out, ‘but if that’s what you believe, I’m surprised you haven’t come armed with a search warrant.’
Ogden’s sour expression melted into one of malicious triumph. With a flourish, he produced a sheet of paper from his pocket and waved it in mid air. ‘That is exactly what we do have.’
He turned to his subordinate. ‘Go check upstairs. I’ll look around down here. That way I can keep my eye on Bailey.’
I was about to warn the young DC about what he would find upstairs, but some imp of mischief caused me to keep silent. By now, I guessed Eve would be dressed and on the point of returning downstairs. I’d shown Ogden the study and lounge and we had just stepped into the dining room when I heard a high-pitched scream.
‘So I was right all along,’ Ogden gloated.
I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the flight of steps in what I can best describe as a panic-stricken gallop, and the young detective appeared, his complexion equally as red as his superior’s had been seconds earlier.
‘I…er…Inspector…there’s a lady…a lady upstairs. She isn’t dressed. She’s in her underwear. I walked in and there she was.’
Eve, I thought, you little minx. No wonder I love you so much.
‘Of course there’s a lady upstairs. I hope you told her to get dressed immediately so she can answer our questions about her husband’s murder?’
‘Er…no…Sir, I…er…that is, she isn’t–’
Before he could say anything meaningful, the dining room door was thrust wide open, catching the inspector between the shoulder-blades. Eve didn’t walk into the room; she marched. ‘Adam, what the hell is going on? Who are these men? How could you allow him–’she pointed to the hapless young detective, who was now cowering behind Ogden‘–to burst in on me as I was
dressing?’
The wink she gave me as she spoke nearly caused me to laugh aloud, but I bit my lip and replied. ‘I’m sorry, darling, I couldn’t prevent them.’
She now turned on the young constable. ‘Who the hell are you?’
‘Never mind that. Who are you?’ Ogden demanded.
‘What business is it of yours?’ Eve snapped.
‘I am Detective Inspector Ogden. I’m investigating the murder of Charles Lewis, and I believe this man,’ he waved his hand in my general direction, ‘has been having an extra-marital affair with Mrs Lewis and may have conspired to murder her husband.’
‘I never heard such poppycock in all my life.’ Eve’s tone was withering. She took a couple of steps towards Ogden, the menace in her eyes plain. ‘Adam has only met Barbara twice, both times when I was present. In fact he only met her because of me.’
‘Then who are you?’ Ogden was nothing if not persistent.
‘My name is Eve Samuels. I’m Adam’s fiancée. Both of which you could have found out for yourself if you’d bothered to ask PC Pickersgill. But I suppose that would have been too much like detective work. Now, I’ll trouble you to leave, and take that little pervert with you, before I call the chief constable, who is a close friend of my brother-in-law, to complain about your conduct.’
‘I was in the process of executing a search warrant,’ Ogden remained stubborn.
‘And I don’t care. Now I’m going to phone Mulgrave Castle. You’ll be lucky if you’re still in a job come Monday morning.’
Eve turned to walk towards the phone before Ogden finally admitted defeat. He headed for the door, but as the DC opened it for him; he had one last try. ‘I still need to ask if either of you know where Mrs Lewis is hiding.’
